


Five Times Draco Malfoy Took it in the Face From One H. Granger

by lunabee34 (Lorraine)



Series: Fistverse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorraine/pseuds/lunabee34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Order of fics in this series:</p><p>Thelastgoodname's "Five Times Hermione Granger Punched Draco Malfoy" (linked in the notes of this story)<br/>My "Five Times Draco Malfoy Took It in the Face from One H. Granger"<br/>Thelastgoodname's <a href="http://thelastgoodname.livejournal.com/280770.html">Fist Meets Face (the Ron Weasley Remix)</a><br/>My Sucker Punch (the Matriarch Mashup)</p><p>In this series, Hermione has a thing for punching Draco in the face.  Eventually, everybody notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Draco Malfoy Took it in the Face From One H. Granger

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Five Times Hermione Granger Punched Draco Malfoy](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/42436) by thelastgoodname. 



The first time Granger punches him in the face, Draco is beyond incredulous. He is, frankly, so deeply shocked he can’t put words to the feeling. No one in all Draco’s fourteen years has ever raised a hand to him--certainly not his parents, for whom the cold and silent withdrawal of affection has always sufficed to punish him, and certainly none of his playmates. All of the Malfoy’s acquaintances are too intimidated by Draco’s father to risk incurring his wrath. And so Draco has never wrestled in the grass with the other boys or split his lip in a friendly scuffle.

Draco has been injured by magic before. He’s failed to dodge his fair number of hexes, but _fisticuffs_ are beyond his comprehension, a thing he’d consider too barbaric to contemplate if the crunch of knuckles against his cheekbone wasn’t still ringing in his ears.

In this moment, Granger ceases to be “that mudblood” and becomes instead the incarnation of all the Dark Lord names diseased in the Wizarding World.

The second time Granger hits Draco, he is grateful because her fist is the only thing he’s felt since he watched Vincent burn. 

Vincent is dead. Voldemort is dead.

Vincent is dead, and Draco’s tooth is loose. He worries it with his tongue, thankful for the sweet, bloody ache that lets him know he’s still alive.

Draco finally understands Granger’s game the third time she pops him one. He has brought himself to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes to buy Teddy a stuffed platypus that sings “Twinkle, Twinkle Minute Light Source” and changes colors with the mood of the person holding it. Naturally, George accosts him in front of the display case and proceeds to more than make up for Fred’s absence in rudeness.

“Bugger off, Weasel,” Draco says, gathering his robes about him. “I have no idea what I was thinking. I’d rather set my money on fire and throw it into the Thames than give a single galleon to support a coalition of ginger idiots.” Draco is preparing for a dramatic exit when Granger’s right hook floors him. Literally.

Draco watches as Granger gets a glazed look in her eyes and drags the Most Irritating Weasley off into the storeroom for what Draco can only assume is a session of connubial bliss. In Draco’s rather limited experience, it’s considered polite to ask the third party if he’s interested in joining one’s marital bed, but perhaps indiscriminate and sexualized violence is normal for mudbloods.

At home, in front of his mirror, Draco waves his wand to banish the blood crusted on his collar and owls Madame Zilchberry for a catalogue of her latest toys.

The fourth time, Granger is heavily pregnant--cow-faced and fat and strangely beautiful in a way that Draco doesn’t wish to examine very closely. Draco wonders how long she can last, how long she can keep her hands to herself, and so he is unfailingly polite and considerate to those around him. He praises the décor of the Ministry ballroom and compliments Weasel’s robes and smiles so insincerely for so long that the corners of his mouth begin to ache. Draco watches as Granger gets more and more red-faced, as her fingers twitch where she’s clenched them in the tablecloth.

When she finally decks him, Draco feels liberated somehow, as if he’s come unmoored from all that’s fastening him to a room full of people who probably think Draco belongs in a cell in Azkaban opposite his father’s. Draco jerks off that night to Granger’s bruised knuckles, to the sharp crack in the air of bone against bone, to Ron’s dark eyes as he pulls her away to finish what Draco has started.

The fifth time Granger hits Draco is at the Manor. Draco’s mother has begun a charity to benefit orphans of the War, a charity that has been well received by the public at large and has, therefore, attracted the attention of do-gooders of various ilk. Granger and Weasel are seated with Potter and the Weasel Girl at Draco’s table. Draco lays odds that Granger won’t make it through the third course.

Naturally, he’s right. 

“Are you enjoying the escargot?” Draco asks.

“This is going to feel so good,” Hermione says and clocks Draco in the temple.

His vision is a little blurry, but Draco can tell that Potter thinks Granger has lost her mind, Weasel’s just ready to get a leg over, and that his mother is contemplating ordering the elves to drag Granger bodily from the premises.

Draco weaves a little in his seat, accepts the handkerchief Potter offers him, and sets off in the direction that Granger and Weasel disappeared. He finds them on the floor of the library between the stacks, Granger’s robes rucked up about her waist.

“Granger,” Draco says. “Hermione,” he says, and then he waits to be welcomed or spurned. Draco knows that even if he is rejected, as long as Granger touches him, he’ll have gotten what he’s asking for.


End file.
